ere he sufficiently commanded himself to speak again, I took a
glance at the maid Maisie Lennox beside me, and the look on her face was
that on the face of a martyr who has come through the torture and won
the victory. But the little lass that was called Margaret of Glen
Vernock clung to her hand and wept as she listened. As for Kate McGhie,
she only looked away over the water of the Hollan Isle to the blue barn
rigging of the Orchar Hill and seemed neither to see nor to hear
anything. Or at least, I was not the man to whom was given the art to
see what were her inner thoughts.

Richard Cameron went on.

"Are there any here that find a difficulty to close with Christ? But
before we speak to that, I think we shall pray a short word."

So all the people stood up on the hillside and the sough of their
uprising was like the wind among the cedar trees. And even as he prayed
for the Spirit to come on these poor folk, that were soon to be
scattered again over the moors and hags as sheep that wanted a shepherd,
the Wind of the Lord (for so I think it was) came breathing upon us. The
grey of the clouds broke up, and for an hour the sun shone through so
kindly and warm that many let their plaids fall to the ground. But the
mists still clung about the mountain tops of the Bennan and Cairn
Edward.

Then after he had prayed not long but fervently, he went on again to
speak to us of the love and sufferings of Christ, for the sake of whose
cause and kingdom we were that day in this wild place. Much he pleaded
with us to make sure of our interest, and not think that because we were
here in some danger at a field preaching, therefore all was well. O but
he was faithful with us that day, and there were many who felt that the
gate of heaven was very near to them at the great conventicle by the
Water of Dee.

And even after many years, I that have been weak and niddering, and that
have taken so many sins on my soul, since I sat there on the bank by
Maisie Lennox, and trembled under Mr. Cameron's words, give God thank
and service that I was present to hear the Lion of the Covenant roar
that day upon the mountains of Scotland.

Yet when he spoke thus to us at this part of his pleading, it was most
like the voice of a tender nursing mother that would wile her wayward
bairns home. But when he had done with offering to us the cross, and
commending Him that erewhile hung thereon, I saw him pause and look
about him. He was silent for a sp